


Who's Cheating Who?

by dragonofdispair



Series: White Collar Fusion AU [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, White Collar
Genre: Commuted Sentence, Crimes & Criminals, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Humor, Jazz kind of hates his life, Pre/No War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 02:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair
Summary: Prowl is a cheating cheater who cheats.





	Who's Cheating Who?

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t going to do anything else with this ‘verse. I wasn’t. I have no idea how to write that sort of casefic, the characters are all just too smart for me. I have minor, though insurmountable issues as a pxj shipper with this ‘verse. I have a ton of other projects.
> 
> Then _someone_ (looking at you Ejean) went and put the image of Prowl hustling pool in my head. Have a oneshot everyone.

Jazz walked into the bar just as Prowl collected his winnings and one of the heavies who’d just lost, badly, shoved the smaller mech against the wall. Balls went flying in every direction and three more heavy mechs smacked their cues against their hands threateningly.

Thief, forger, con artist, and now, apparently, billets hustler, Prowl gave the sore losers a smirk, canting his doors into a an apologetic angle. “Many apologies,” he said, smooth baritone voice charming, convincing, despite the situation. “I would really _love_ to stick around while you beat the slag out of me, but my parole officer just walked in.” He nodded in Jazz’s direction.

Jazz _really_ hated being used, but what could he do? Hustling wasn’t illegal, as long as there wasn’t any cheating (which he knew Prowl was perfectly capable of, but wouldn’t have bothered with for a mere thousand shanix worth of winnings), and armed assault _was._ He unsubspaced his badge to show it as he made his way over to the billets table. He recognized two of them, and saw he was recognized as well.

“Slag.”

“Good evening, gentlemechs,” Jazz greeted with a charming smile of his own. “While I’m quite certain this ruffian deserves whatever you were thinking of dishing out, I’m afraid I can’t ignore an armed assault in progress.”

“This fragger stole our money!”

“If you bet it willingly,” Jazz corrected, “then it isn’t stealing, even if he was concealing the full extent of his skill at the time. But I’m sure we could put this unfortunate incident behind us if he gives it back and apologizes, right?”

The thugs exchanged looks; Prowl’s smug smirk never wavered, completely unfazed by Jazz making him give the money back. It made Jazz suspicious. Of course everything about Prowl made Jazz suspicious so he tried not to let it ruin his day.

“Sure,” the smartest heavy mech said.

Still smirking, Prowl handed over the money and was reluctantly released. “I apologize for… something, I’m sure. I’ll be more specific once I figure out what.”

Immediately Jazz yanked on the mech’s door to pull him out the door, before the thugs could react and beat them _both_ up. They’d get jail time for assaulting an officer, true, but Jazz would still be in the hospital. Not his idea of a good time.

“That was fun!” Prowl called to the heavies. “We’ll never do it again sometime!” Jazz slammed the door to the bar behind them. Then he threw the con artist against the wall himself, though he didn’t follow it up with more threats. He was annoyed though, and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. “What?” Prowl said, with an “innocent” widening of his optics. “I get the feeling you’re annoyed with me, though I cannot for the life of me fathom why—"

“You are the most frustrating, incorrigible _sleazeball_ I have ever known!” Jazz interrupted.

“I’m sensing some hostility here.” Prowl said mildly. “And if _I’m_ the biggest sleaze you’ve ever dealt with, then I think the Enforcers are paying you too much.”

“You fragging betcha you’re sensing some hostility!” Jazz snarled, though he might have been snarling at the wall behind him for all the effect it had on Prowl. “Where’s the money?”

“You made me give it back.” There was another slight widening of optics, the insincere parody of offended virtue.

“You kept it. I know you did. I have no idea how, but you kept it somehow. I want to know how, and I want to know where it is.”

“Well if you don’t know how a basic sleight of hand trick like that works,” Prowl pouted, “I’m not going to enlighten you.” Like magic, the wad of bills appeared in his hand. “I’ll lodge a complaint if you take it though. I’m on parole, and hustling billets is not against the law. Quality energon and detailing are not cheap, not to mention the accessories, and as a consultant to the Enforcers, the pay is slag.”

Jazz’s claws flexed as he struggled to deal with his inexplicable anger. Prowl was right. He’d done nothing illegal to get that money, but it was just one more example of Prowl being… Prowl. The mech was just too smart, too  _shameless,_ as a criminal; it never failed to get on Jazz’s last nerve-wire. Helping the Enforcers solve cases didn’t mean he’d changed. He was never going to change and Jazz was the one running around cleaning up the mess. He could never quite shake the feeling of being manipulated whenever he talked to Prowl, or about Prowl, or anything to do with Prowl.

“I’m not rescuing you next time,” Jazz huffed. He turned and started to walk back towards the main street.

“I assure you,” Prowl said smoothly as he trotted to catch up, “I did not expect the rescue the first time. I presume you came looking for me because we have a case?” He sounded eager, like a turbopuppy following on the heels of an experienced scent-tracker. Feigned, of course, though he knew Prowl did enjoy getting to flex his intellect and show off how good a criminal he was, by showing everyone how much better he was than the poor schlepps they caught and brought to justice. If only Prowl actually cared, even a little bit, about justice instead of showing off, Jazz could even admit he was fun to work with… As it was, this whole thing was just frustrating.

“Yes,” Jazz answered shortly. He didn’t like this at all, but there wasn’t much he could do about it, except simply watch and catch Prowl when he wandered off the straight and narrow once again. “As much as I might wish otherwise.”

“Where _I,”_ Prowl declared, “always enjoy spending quality time with you. Solving puzzles, tracking down bad guys…”

“Making criminal contacts for when you’re released for real.”

“Making criminal contacts for when I’m released for real,” Prowl confirmed without missing a beat.

Jazz just sighed.


End file.
